Free Strays by Jennifer Caloyeras

Channel buff,” he whispered back.
    I smiled.
    Kevin continued, “So what do you say? Are you up for the challenge of getting these dogs trained?”
    â€œDo we have a choice?” asked Randy.
    â€œThere’s always a choice,” said Kevin. He handed me Roman’s leash again. This time, when the dog came to smell my feet, I stayed very still, as you’re supposed to do with bees. Roman looked like he was inhaling my shoelaces through his nostrils, sniffing intently. But then he decided he was done and had a seat next to me, his head resting on his front paws.
    â€œWhat are we doing today?” asked Shelley.
    â€œJust getting to know our dogs. Getting to know each other. And we’ll learn how to hold a leash. So everyone stand up,” said Kevin.
    Did he think we were idiots? How hard could it be to hold a leash?
    â€œThere is a proper way. I’ll use Bruce as an example.” Kevin borrowed Shelley’s dog. “So this is how it works. Leashes don’t work when you hold them like this,” he said, demonstrating the way we were all casually holding them. “They only work if you hold them like this.”
    He took the loop of the leash handle in his right hand and then held the leash with his left. “This is how you tell a dog that you’re in control.”
    â€œWhy doesn’t this work?” asked Talbot. Her dog was way out in front of her, and Talbot had her forefinger casually hooked around the leash.
    â€œBecause your dog is leading you. He’s telling you that he is the boss, but you need to be the boss in order for him to feel safe.”
    â€œDo you really think this little thing thinks it’s the boss of me?” said Randy, regarding the pint-sized Chihuahua at his feet. “I could sit on it and practically end its life!”
    â€œRandy!” screamed Talbot.
    â€œWhat? Are you going to report me to PETA? I’m just telling it like it is,” said Randy.
    â€œYour dog doesn’t respect you yet, Randy,” said Kevin.
    â€œHow do you know?” asked Randy.
    Kevin pointed toward the dog. “See how she’s sitting with her back toward you, totally not in tune with what you might want her to be doing?”
    â€œI thought she was just sunbathing,” said Randy.
    â€œWatch this.” Kevin gave Bruce’s leash to Oak, who looked a little lost with a dog on each arm, and went over to Tinkerbelle. Kevin took the leash, holding it with his right hand looped and his left hand holding the leash and gave a slight tug. Tinkerbelle abruptly stood up and came around to face Kevin.
    â€œThat is being in control of your dog. That’s how you properly hold a leash. Now I want you all to try.” Kevin handed Tinkerbelle’s leash back to Randy.
    I tried to hold the leash as Kevin had shown us, but Roman didn’t budge.
    â€œFace me!” I said to my dog, whose ears perked up right away as though he fully understood my command—but instead of calmly turning his attention toward me as Kevin had demonstrated, Roman began yanking on the leash. I held on tightly to the other end, paying particular attention to how close my feet were coming to him because the last thing I wanted to do was make him think that I was about to beat him up like his previous owner.
    â€œGive just a little tug.” Kevin looked on, and I listened and jerked ever so slightly on the leash. Like magic, Roman perked up and turned around to look at me. Everyone else was still struggling with this exercise.
    â€œGreat work, Iris!” said Kevin.
    I felt like I had the magic touch. Garrett was rolling on his back, and Persia was having a light snack of fresh grass. Their dogs were being ornery.
    Nothing had gone my way like this in a long time. Not my bike wheels staying inflated. Not summer school being avoided. Not mothers staying alive. Nothing. But just now, I’d experienced what it felt like for things to go